Mask
by X-x-o-KISSIT-o-x-X
Summary: I let the mask fall. Here I am, But I am not here at all.
1. Chapter 1

B.P.O.V

I let the mask fall. Everyone's gone.

There's no need for it.

I slouch down on the settee, knowing no need for a good posture.

I am here, alone. But here I am not at all.

There is nothing left but an empty shell with a mask. The shell with a face is called "Bonnie".

She is good, happy, naïve and bright.

_I _am _me, _dark, moody, solitary.

_I _stare at the lounge clock, watching the pathetic minutes of my life idle away, _I_ wish for the end, and yet, at the same time as I wish for someone to come along and break my heart, I need the passion, the want, the lust, and to have complete faith.

Somehow the naivety is not so fake after all.

But _I_ never get as I want.

_Bonnie_ gets what best for her.

But _they _are gone and so is the "Bonnie" they all think they know.


	2. Chapter 2

B.P.O.V

Resting on my knees on the kitchen countertop, I stretch, reaching for Damon's whiskey bottle. Why in the world of Hell did he have to put them up so high?

My hand brushes the neck of the bottle, but succeeds only in pushing it further away.

"_Motherfucker" _I mutter.

A dark chuckle emanates from the corner of the room, subsequently scaring the crap out of me, causing me to fall backwards.

_His_ arms are the ones to catch me, holding me still as I ineffectively thrashed against him, trying to push myself away from his too warm body.

Trying to get myself away from the only arms that I ever want to be held by.

With his ever-unfailing smirk, he reaches up for the bottle, at the same time as setting me to my feet. He passes the whiskey to me with a raised eyebrow.

"I am assuming this is what you wanted?" he questions.

Assumptions the mother of all fuckers, what's your mums name?

I snatch the bottle, and with a curt nod, I turn on my heel and head for the stairs.

'Course the bastard would only let me get so far.


	3. Chapter 3

B.P.O.V.

He traps me against the wall with his body, arms either side of mine.

I was already pretty pissed with him for just _being _here, so I wasn't likely to be too terribly nice to him.

"Tell me what the fuck you want, and tell me quick, before I don't resist the temptation to bottle you," I demand.

He snatches the alcohol from my hand, opening the cap and taking a swig. Like he's the one who needs it.

"If you're going to be like that, then that's all well and good, but I'm going to drink all this" he motions to the bottle, taking another swig, "while _you _tell_ me _what the fuck is going on"

"You're forgetting that I can give you the biggest headache you've ever had in your overly long life and be done with it, aren't you?"

He turns to look at me, with his eyes dead lights, boring right through me.

"Try me".

**Well done to all those who spotted my IT phrase, from Stephen King. Go me and my name! ;D**


	4. Chapter 4

D.P.O.V

I hate her.

No.

I hat_ed_ her.

She pisses me off in the most perfect of ways.

Every _one _of my instincts scream KILL, KILL, KILL.

And its everything I can do to not.

She's to pretty to die.

But she always said that she wanted to die young and beautiful in her grave.

I want to make that little fantasy of hers come true.

KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL, KISS, KISS, KISS, KISS, KISS, KISS, KISS, KILL, KISS…protect.

And somehow I don't mind how that goes. I like it.

(_No, you like her_)

I would want to, wouldn't I?

(_Far too much_)

And no, I don't just hate her. But I am certain that the hate surpasses the love.

I love her.


	5. Chapter 5

B.P.O.V

I stare at him, my eyes defiant of his unwavering glare.

"Give me the bottle and let me go"

"And let me guess what will happen when I don't? The largest migraine in the world?"

"Something to that effect."

"Ah, _il mio bella rossa_, I can torture you far worse than what you imagine you can do to me,"

My overly brave eyebrow rises.

"Would you like to try that theory out, Mr. Salvatore?" I challenge.

A devilish grin replaces his formerly smirking features.

My eyebrows furrow, trying to figure out what he has planned.

Of course, he was right.


	6. Chapter 6

B.P.O.V

His eyes searching my face, he leans forward, millimetre by tiny millimetre.

I panic as I realize what he meant. I try to dodge, but he catches me, holds me in place.

His lips snatch mine, and I know I am done. Nothing, absolutely _nothing_ compares to the feel of his satin lips against mine.

We fall into the all too familiar routine.

Tantalizing, strange, beautiful, erotic.

We both _need_ this, I can tell, as the hunger grows inside of me.

I know he can feel it too, but this time, he doesn't break away, and this time, I know I wouldn't let him.

His arms wrap around me, holding me close. It was comfort.

But I needed more than that.

His tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, my tongue sweeps across his.

He picks me up; I wrap my legs around his waist.

He kisses me harder, I kiss back even more.

He crushes me against the wall, my fingers slip underneath his shirt.

He bites across my lip; I rake my hands down the length of his back.

He breaks away.

He looks at me.

I nod.

I pull him back.


End file.
